


a love just like ours wouldn't last

by deandratb



Series: Maybe In Another Life [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Musings from Alice and FP after their encounter in "The Lost Weekend." Just a random story before Nanowrimo takes over my life.





	a love just like ours wouldn't last

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be writing Falice for Nanowrimo!! Come talk to me on tumblr @ actuallylorelaigilmore.

_‘Snakes don’t shed their skin so easily.’_

He says it on a cold Northside night, the first time they’ve spoken in years. Alice has seen him in passing occasionally, looking tougher and sadder than she remembers. They never talk, though. They look through each other like the ghosts they’ve become.

But FP said the same thing once, and hearing it again drags her back in time. To a soft-eyed boy in a white t-shirt swearing bloody murder because the girl he loved in leather and lace was wearing pearls and insisted she was never coming back.

She hates FP for the reminder. She loathes everything about him, from the beard that makes him look like someone else, to the smirk that hasn’t changed at all.

She has to hate him, because if she didn’t...she’d still love him, more than she could stand. Love never fades for her, just lingers and ages, bitter like wine. 

_Hating him is easier._

And maybe she hasn’t found joy, the way she thought she would. Maybe she’s long since forgotten why the Northside shone so brightly once upon a time, a glittering, rich world with her face pressed against invisible glass. But it’s her world now--she gripped it fiercely with both hands and  **made**  them all accept her.

So fuck him with his judgement and casual flirtation and those hands that used to keep her warm on nights like this.

FP Jones doesn’t get to tell her who to be. No one does.

 _Except Hal,_  a rebellious voice whispers as she goes back inside. Fuck that voice too, Alice decides.

Hal likes to think he’s in charge, but he never has been. She lets him play man of the house because it’s what he wanted. And in her daughters and job and social standing, she got what she wanted.

An even trade, a marriage built on compromises and secrets. 

Her husband made a lot of promises when they were young, and dutifully kept them. He never promised her happiness.

_Did Hal know it wasn’t possible? Was the flaw in him, or in her?_

The questions don’t keep Alice up at night. She takes Ambien and sleeps just fine, thank you very much.

But one word from FP and suddenly she’s questioning everything. Her choices, her life. Herself.

_‘You’re still hot, Alice.’_

The insult that came after, she can ignore. She knows he never understood or approved of her choices. He isn’t even aware of the worst of it, what she’s done, so she can forgive him the jabs. 

But... **hot** , he called her. Could he be more inappropriate?

Her brain’s traitorous and immediate answer is yes. Of course he could. She remembers what FP can do with that Serpent tongue. _In a movie theater, of all places._ They used to be fearless.

Is he, still? Because she no longer has that bravado, that carelessness. Becoming a parent changed everything. She’s been terrified since Charles was born, since she brought Polly home, since Betty’s first day of school. 

All Alice wants is a little control, and the world has never allowed her that. Just the illusion of it, easily shattered. 

She gave Polly freedom and lost her. She kept Betty close and can feel her slipping away too. Nothing about Riverdale is truly safe, or fair, or kind. 

But the Northside is hers. 

FP may not respect her choice, but he had better respect that.

And if he hates her, she can’t blame him. 

_She doesn’t hate him nearly as much as she likes to pretend she does. She misses him more than she’ll ever admit._

When Alice is working late at the Register, and she hears a motorcycle roar past in the dark, a part of her still shivers. 

Nobody, especially FP, needs to know that she hates herself a little bit too.

****

He shouldn’t have said anything. Not a goddamn thing. For decades, he’s managed to avoid lashing out at the perplexing first love of his life. 

Oh, he’s seen Alice in passing, with her nose in the air and her pastel family--he visits the Northside more than other Serpents, to keep tabs on Jughead and take care of business for the gang.

She shocked him, that’s the truth of it. He was thinking about his son and of course he knows where she lives now, that he was only one door down from Alice while he broke up that disaster of a party. 

He was working so hard  **not** to focus on that fact, that Alice took him by surprise. And she didn’t have the right to look so good, like barely any time had passed, while she was dressed like a stranger. 

_How is it that she can throw that casual sarcasm his way, still with such perfect aim?_

All he can hear and see whenever she gets too close is two kids making out in the backseat of her beat-up car, her hair flying everywhere while she threw a book at his head...her telling him she loved him for the first time, with that rough, gorgeous laugh.

So many years, so much shrapnel in their wake, and Alice still makes his mouth water. 

He’s an idiot, that’s all there is to it. He has a knack for terrible decisions, poor impulse control, trouble expressing his feelings. But mostly, sometimes, he can just be really stupid. 

Having kids helped a little with his priorities. Dabbling in AA has done wonders for his control. But being struck dumb by Alice Cooper? 

FP’s pretty sure that one can’t be fixed. Not as long as he lives.

Some days, it’s hard to feel like there’s a point to living when he just fucks everything up. Some nights, the memories of Alice he has tucked away, forever young and defiantly happy, keep him going. 

She’d laugh in his face if she knew that. 

Everything’s different now anyway. Not just her, on the PTA and the Neighborhood Watch instead of raising hell at the Whyte Wyrm. FP crossed the last line that mattered, and he’s carrying the secret of Jason Blossom like a curse. No matter how hard he tries, he can never wash it away.

The blood on his hands means that Alice finally got exactly what she wanted. She really is better than him now. And no opinion of hers could possibly be worse than how he feels about himself.

FP drives home more sober than he’s been in a while. He wanted a clear head for Jug’s party; even if he **had** gotten drunk there, seeing Alice would’ve sobered him right up. 

 _God, she looked good._ And she still has the bite of a snake. Fangs and venom and striking at the first sign of weakness, coiled protectively around her home. 

She didn’t have a home, before. Not a real one.

Is it really that surprising that Alice doesn’t know when to leave things alone? That she has to poke and attack and keep a wary eye on her own neighbors? 

The girl he loved showed no fear, but she never felt safe in her life, let alone her own skin.

FP wants to hate her for leaving him, for choosing the rich boy who wanted someone he could mold like clay.  _It would be easier._

Is he still pissed at her for giving up on them? Absolutely. But he gets it. 

As much as he can, he understands.

They only made sense on the Southside, and Alice Smith never took her eyes off the horizon. 

He risked everything to protect his son, and she gave up everything to give a picture-perfect life to her daughters.

FP and Alice have always been two sides of the same coin: fighting for their lives like it was better to go down than give in. They just define survival differently.

He’ll do whatever it takes to keep the Blossom secrets buried, even though Jason refused to stay sunk. And he’ll go back to ignoring Alice, no matter how she baits him with that lifted eyebrow and stubborn chin.

She’s where she belongs now, and so is he, and when their worlds crash into each other there will always be casualties.

_It’s a shame that what they had is at the top of that list._

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from "You Don't Do It For Me Anymore" by Demi Lovato.


End file.
